All's Fair in Love and Wario (or, 50 Shades of Gold)
by 2098-Face
Summary: Cunning, muscular rogue Wario thought himself unshakeable - until he met the love of his life while on the run. Forbidden romance blossoms as the swindler in gold clandestinely visits the object of his affections; combats his own doubts and insecurities; and attempts to understand the advice of his dashing colleague, Waluigi. A shipping fic focusing on Wario x A Large Bag of Coins
1. The Rushing Breeze

_*Huff-puff, huff-puff*_

Garlic-scented breaths floated over the meadow of beautiful roses and amazing daisies.

"Gyaaah! It's too late! I'm too late!"

A pleasant breeze rustled the trees, their leaves blooming in vivid greens with the arrival of spring.

"Grrr, if I hadn't overslept... If I hadn't punched that alarm so hard..."

Plants stretching out to kiss the morning dew met the soles of Wario's elegantly-pointed shoes.

Such a peaceful, secluded forest, this was. Free from the urban world's humdrum bustle. It could put the most distraught minds to ease. It could bring the most jaded, shut-off eyes to tears.

It could make a great hiding place for the bulkiest thieves.

"Gotta move, gotta move, gotta..."

\- _*BANG*_ -

And it could make a scoundrel's sharpest spacial instincts shut right off - making perfectly lucid people bump into roadblocks in plain sight.

Wario fell to his back, his handsome muscles leaving a fine imprint in the gentle soil. His blue eyes, pointed up, pierced a sky that was just as spotless and perfect. His sturdy hand reached for his fallen hat, coloured like sweet honey.

When he got back to his legs, he threw a graceful punch forward.

"Watch where you're standing, moron! If you get in my way again, I'll pound you until -"

His delicate fist froze in midair. Through his sweet round nose, the meaty man glimpsed at this roadblock that he'd collided into.

It was a gigantic, sagging bag. Tinted in an understated peachy-beige. A simple, mocha-tinted ribbon twisted around the top - through which flowing golden coins poured. A black "G" symbol, with two crosses through it, stood at the front.

The biggest sack of cash this sturdy-stomached swindler had seen in ages.

He froze before this beauty. His chiseled shoulders relaxed, and his fingers uncurled gently. Perfectly-coiffed clumps of facial hair rose with his stout cheeks in a wide smile. He bore his clean, white teeth, garlic breath pouring out as they opened.

"I'll... I'll..." A troubled _gulp_ ran down his masculine Adam's apple. "You're beautiful..."

He mumbled.

Another quiet breeze flew through the woods. Having a chance meeting like this - in such a remote spot - was the last thing Wario expected when he stomped into the clearing. Was this a dream? The moment was too enchanting for reality. His consciousness sunk into the sound of doves chirping happily-but-politely; the soft crash of waves on the Kitchen Island shores; the gentle rustle of grass and leaves; the rhythmic sirens of the incoming police; the muffled threats they directed to him.

His eyes, glazed like doughnuts, snapped open.

"...No! Grr, if they see me here, with this cash...!"

His careful (yet firm) hands dove into the mass before him. He could feel the delicate touch of coins on the other end, still warm. Was the bag moving - or was that his racing pulse? No matter how much he pulled, the object of his desires remained in place.

Turning away to run, the forest's manly visitor grunted in muted sorrow. He looked over his shoulder to the coins - fighting back a hint of a tear in his eye. "We'll meet again!"

Wario gracefully stumbled away, elbow-checking a clump of leaves - which hid a softly-dangling beehive. His frame landed right into the arms of a befuddled police Toad. More of his comrades came in, badges glowing in the sun's bright rays.

"Wario!" This officer's lowest vocal register could be compared to a kitten's bell. A stern, angry kitten's bell. "I'm charging you with attempted robbery, attempted slobbery, tax evasion with a motorized vehicle, rechargeable battery, self-arson..."

The words trailed off, jumbling into an uneven chatter. In fact, the verdant surroundings themselves spun, in a dizzy spiral of confusion and passion. Wario's body felt light. Lighter than the last time he'd skipped a snack. Lighter than a flying bee. Lighter than a man with an inflated face from bee stings.

He could only barely make out the Toad's words: "...Suspect is floating away! I repeat, suspect is attempting to flee through the sky!"


	2. A Heart-to-Heart

*****One Bail Later*****

"...Only one block, and it bungled everything! And I just LET the coppers take me! I didn't fight back! Didn't even grumble!"

Wario's beefy arms flew into the sky, palms shaking at the ends.

"Wah? Impossible!" Waluigi's narrow frame lifted from his chair, shoulders stiff with shock. "You're the best grumbler in the kingdom!"

His partner in crime shot him a glare through thick eyebrows. His gentle fist created a clean imprint in the wall.

"Eeeh, my bad. My bad." The taller of the two scofflaws flinched, wiping the hair tufts under his hat. "You're the best grumbler in the galaxy!"

That same fist created a clean imprint in Waluigi's side of the table.

Tired from rambling, Wario sat down on his castle's throne. Well, technically, it was no longer a castle. Attacks from rivals - and well-intentioned Bob-Omb experiments - had destroyed large chunks of the walls. Additionally, authorities towed away entire halls of the palace to pay off various loans and bails. But the rapscallion still bore a king's dignity, slouching on a removed car seat, surveying his dingy tool shed.

"What a rotten day. If I hadn't run into that stupid bag..."

The purple-clad beanpole struggled to mold the wooden table back into place. "I feel your pain..." In an amazing achievement, this leggy bootlegger's tone was even more depressed than usual.

"Yeeeeah. You really suffer for this." Wario rested all of his glorious chins on his palm. "How come I'm always the one doing the heavy lifting in these capers?"

His partner put his hands on his spindly hips, looking away. "Oh, boo-hoo. Everyone has it easy but Wario, huh?"

"Tell me something." Wario glared him down. "Have you ever stolen a coin from Captain Syrup? Ever been trapped in the Awazon and forced to cut your stash to escape? Have you ever made a game, even a five-second one?"

His thin lips stayed clenched tightly, only a few suggestions of what could resemble words slipping out of their pursed grip. "I used... psychic powers to save a kingdom!"

"That was a dream, Waluigi!" Wario flipped the table up, lifting his roommate with it. "You're good for nothing - except napping!" He paused to ponder other qualifications. "...And reaching cereal boxes!"

This accusation - it thrust agony deep into Waluigi's high-pressure heart. An uncouth assault on the very essence of his person! A betrayal from his most trusted companion! A stab to the back, kick in the face, a stain on his new sofa! AND a flip of his table! What cruel force of nature led him to such painful situations? Normally, he'd perform a strategic retreat, while contemplating on his misfortune, and inability to form meaningful relationships.

But, a corner of his heart lit up, near an aorta. The same corner from whence came his poses with roses. The place that put lip marks on his mirror. Channeling this snide side of himself, he delivered a surprise counter-strike.

"I stayed home this time, because... I don't want to get in the way of your love."

The stagnant smell of garlic floated through the room. A pair of elegant eyebrows curled down.

"What?"

Waluigi's slender limbs shuffled across the dusty floor. "Your true love, Wario."

"True love?" He got to his legs, gracefully waddling over. "With who? That ghost princess Shoroka? Queen Meralda?" His expressive, yet subtle body language added in the side-note - _yeah, I dare you to dig your way out of this one_.

"Your romance with that bag of cash."

The yellow-clad swindler had to stand on tiptoes to meet the mouth that spewed this slander. "This is a new level of dumb. Why would I be in love with a bag of money?"

Now - as they did in the direst of moments - the cogs in Waluigi's head began turning against each other. A complex map of arguments stretched out before his eyes. Truths and half-truths that existed for him to twist like beautiful bow-ties and ankles. All he had to do was link them all together, and this plump pseudo-plumber would fall for his wits, like any victim.

"Well... You bumped into the coin bag while running, late for something. That's always how good relationships start."

Wario kept his intense, ocean-eyed glare pointed at his partner.

He gulped. "And - and it's like you said. You're usually so good with words. Well, bad with words. Good with bad words." The indent in the table screamed to him in protest, begging him to stop while it could still be fixed - but he kept digging his hole deeper, regardless. "And when a smart guy like you meets his true love, he's at loss for words. Right?"

The yellow-clad shoulders lowered slightly. "But that stupid thing got me in jail! I've been tellin' you for the past hour!"

"Right!" Waluigi's fingers snapped, cheeks beaming with the same pride and relief as when he'd completed a 9-piece puzzle last month. "Since you got back, you haven't stopped talking about your feelings for the -object- of your affection!"

The gluttonous adventurer turned his eye to the sky. "The bag DID have a nice shape... Yeah..." He caught himself drooling, and snapped back to the defensive position. "Urgh, but I can't even pick it up! And it got me caught by the police! Stupid, idiotic..."

Waluigi twirled his mustache, basking preemptively in the success of his social manoeuvres. "You're just hiding your emotions by trash-talking your true love! And that coin bag is being stubborn, too. Playing hard-to-get, both of you. It's what ALL the young romantics are doing. A very, VERY subtle show of affections. It shows how deep you are, or somethin'."

Now, how could the gold-hatted anti-hero argue that he didn't have sentimental, psychological complexity? He paused, turning his head to think. "But... If you're keepin' out of our way by picking your nose at home... How did you know it'd be there?"

"Because I'm psychic." Having spent years lying to himself about his strengths and flaws, he displayed no signs of uncertainty saying this. Testing the bounds of his turnabout, he added: "And I'm also your wingman. I know EVERYTHING you should do to win the love of your precious bag o' loot."

He crossed his arms, pacing around. "I do wanna get back to that gold, but... The police are all still scrambling around there after the last stint. I can't spend another night in Koopatraz!"

Waluigi's hands clapped. "You can't be seen with the coin bag, just like Romeo and Juliet! You see, this is the perfect forbidden love story!"

"What are you blabbing?" Wario scratched a spot under his cap, grimacing. "I'm not a teen girl! Coins can't poison or stab themselves! Grr, I don't get any of this..."

He felt a thin hand landing on his wide, masculine shoulder. "Love is confusing, Wario. But if you listen to me, you'll be carrying your princess in those beefy arms before long."

With the shorter man's eyes turned away in deep contemplation, Waluigi saw a perfect opportunity. Through a sleight of hand, he opened his partner's back pocket, and tossed a single coin in - before snapping it back.

"**YEAOW!**" Wario shouted as if a cupid had struck him with an arrow to the rear end. He looked to his backside for the source of the pain, discovering the piece of fine legal tender submerged in his overalls' folds.

Waluigi chuckled. "Look at that! When you bumped into that bag, you accidentally took one of its coins with you!" He crouched down to elbow the thief's perfectly-sturdy rib. "This is a perfect excuse to visit her again, eh?"

The spiky-mustached man spent a second staring at the coin. He saw his reflection against the gold; the shape made all his handsome facial features even more stunning. This whole idea was insane, but... When he looked at the way his well-groomed facial hair... the strong curve of his chin... and those beautiful, piercing eyes... He could see a man in love. A charming hero that anyone would dream of. All his best traits were brought out by this little thing between his index and thumb. In the depths of the forest, within that sack, there would be so many more of them. And they'd all be his, his to cherish forever. Unless some do-gooder got to it first...

"Wah!" He exclaimed suddenly. "Why am I standing around here? I have a date with my riches!" He dashed out the door, removing it from the rusted hinges. His swift, steady footsteps sent clouds of dust aflutter into the cool wind's kiss.

Waluigi waited until his partner had disappeared, before collapsing, limbs spread out to the cardinal directions, panting like a warm dog. "Ha... I can't believe it! It worked! Weheheheh, now I'm safe! I'm safe, all alone in here, without anyone..."

A pang of regret slid into his devious heart. He set the wood table up, brushing the indent in it - shaped like his friend's fist. Getting Wario to fall in love... was this victory Pyrrhic?

_Author's Notes:_

_Tentatively, this story is planned to last 10 chapters, of a similar length to these. I have 3 more written, out-of-order, which still need editing and grooming._


	3. The Inevitable Return

*****One side-scrolling level later*****

In the tranquillity of the forest, an explorer in yellow had plowed a new path. It was as spotless as his strong, glistening teeth, cutting through trees, bushes, and rock formations. Someone following it would gain a blissful view of the natural wonders still left. Stunning scenery on a winding, twisted route that moved in confused circles onto itself.

With levels of grace and stealth only an experienced thief like him could pull off, Wario headbutted a boulder. Confused bugs scattered out from below. He marched ahead, spinning his head from left to right. "Come on, where are you, idiot? Wasn't I running around here when I bumped into it?..." He stood silent for a moment, whacking aside a tree with his gold-clothed elbow. "Playing hard-to-get? ...No, what am I saying? I'm an unflappable, confident treasure hunter. There's no place in my gut for love. I'm here to get my cash back!"

He nodded, shoulder-checking his way through a bear. "Yeah, that's it! Waluigi's just slow. Or he's pulling a fast one on me. Or he's slowly being fast... quickly slowing... or - OOF!"

His face met with a familiar roadblock. Gravity pulled its cruel hands on him from behind. A resounding pound erupted across the vicinity. He'd fallen into his own previously-made imprint, lying flat on the soft expanse of his rear end.

The rogue's delicate, deep pupils glanced around quickly. Finally, the same peaceful clearing! Not another soul in sight - not even an insect to disturb his intimate moment. And before him, that bag...

It sagged over gently from the weight of its contents. To a standard human eye, evolved to see potential predators everywhere, the web of folds and wrinkles across the beige surface could resemble a face. To a human eye used to seeing faces in clouds, mountains, and mushrooms, it would be even easier to mentally twist its features into one's own image.

"Hey! Couldn't you have given me some clues to find you?" Wario snarled at it.

No response. A silent breeze filled the air, cooling the discoverer's mustache as it combed through the swiftly-coiffed hairs.

One of his green shoes slid across the dew-covered grass as he got up. He held the coin out from his pocket, hesitated in demure shyness, and gently slammed it down in front of the bag. "There! That's my alibi! If any loser cops have a problem with us - with me - I'm just gonna say I was givin' back this coin!" He put both hands to his hips, seemingly proud of his accomplishment.

A few leaves fluttered gently from the trees, landing on the honey-tinted hat. The coin's sheen was even stronger in the sunlight. It felt as if the rays were bathing the two beings in a bright glow, holding them in a private world together for just a moment.

He lunged out for the bag. "Hey! are you just gonna sit there and stare at me? I SUFFERED to reach you, you gorgeous lump of junk!" Calling forth every well-developed muscle in his arms, and squatting down to put his back in, the man lifted upwards. His overalls' white buttons squirmed in a valiant effort to contain the full mass of his flexing pectorals, biceps, triceps, and navel.

The beige mass didn't move from its spot.

Tossing his careful hands up in frustration, Wario panted. "Hah... Gaaah... I'm talking to a freakin' sack of coins! What kind of dunce am I?"

For a moment, the dashing adventurer considered returning home. With a clear idea where his target was - and a clear path leading to it - he'd be able to return with more preparation. Maybe a crowbar. Or a forklift. It wouldn't be too hard to steal one of either, if he went to that construction zone on Donkey Kong Island. He could get in with no problem after stealing a wrecking ball, jackhammer, and diamond cutter - and disguising himself as a worker there! Now, traveling to Donkey Kong Island would be a bit tougher. He'd been unfairly travel-banned for jaywalking with a deadly weapon, and attempted autocannibalism... And even more importantly, where would he find a construction worker who looked like him?

But, by chance, he didn't leave. Some part of his brilliant cranium was deep in thought; or just too stubborn to leave without one last attempt. And in that second, from the most infinitesimally minute corner of his pupil, he saw something moving.

His eyelids lifted a nanometer. Had the police found him? Was it just another quiet wind, lifting the quiet grass blades up? Or his active, inventive imagination turned against him?

No. Something wiggled again. The bag of loot was wobbling slightly, the "face" formed by the wrinkles moving into something that could look like a sideways grin.

Grabbing it again, Wario could feel it. The gentle vibration tickled his fingers. It was warm, with a steady action, like a pulse. He pulled the entirety of his body closer to the container, holding the immense lump in his protective arms. When he calmly shut his indigo-shadowed eyes, he could almost hear the thing, whispering to it softly...

"Well, _handsome_. Fancy seeing you here."

He grinned, soft cheeks turning red. "Yeah, I am pretty good-looking, huh?... Wait." His clean teeth clenched together. Both manly eyebrows across shot down across his forehead in a "V" formation. "That voice-! That stupid voice-! YOU!" When his neck craned up, and his eyelids rose up, the whites underneath were already bloodshot in anticipation.

Just as he'd deduced, someone had interrupted his private moment - someone worse than the police. A familiar figure was slouching up high, atop the coin bag, getting uncomfortably comfortable in its complex map of folding cloth. Just the simple wave of her curled, dark-red hair elicited a ferocious growl from the depths of his chiseled abdomen. Her smile bore a unique sense of satisfaction and savvy that evoked the Cheshire Cat - if the Cheshire Cat were a human, a pirate, and lacked anything resembling moral scruples.

"_SYRUP._"

Wario didn't speak, so much as grind his teeth until their vibrations emitted a sound approximating the intruder's name.

Captain Syrup pointed a broad finger to his trail of broken boulders, uprooted bushes, and amateur lumberjacking. "Smooth job on the trailblazing. Easy to follow. Led me right to a treasure." Her voice was flatter than a syrup-coated pancake. The uncouth hand flopped down invasively to the side of the coin bag, fingers brushing across the stainless, pure cloth - soiling it with her dirty touch.

The brawny man gripped on the side, using the bag's folds as holds to scurry up. "Get off! That bag belongs with me!"

His climb continued, stunning eyes peeking over the side of the immense structure. Captain Syrup slumped over menacingly - as menacingly as one can slump over - to face him. "Reeeally. My mistake, I didn't see an ugly 'W' stamped on it." Their noses met, serving as the platform for the duel between their spark-generating glares.

Wario's toned legs wobbled to the sack's side as he struggled to gain altitude. "Get your hands off! I'm not gonna let you steal this piece of beauty from me!"

Captain Syrup blinked both eggshell eyelids at him. "Face it, big shot, this job is out of your league." Her hands wrapped gently around the tip of her rival's cap, tugging it down. The man saw the world sink into black; felt swift pressure against his splendid stomach; and formed another imprint of his perfectly-proportioned body against the soil.

THUD.

As he fiddled with his cap - twisting, tugging, and swearing with the upmost perfect manners - the mustached treasure hunter heard that thick, disgustingly sweet voice spread over him. She continued: "I'm curious. How do you think you can snatch this one up before me? With an army of followers? A genius mind? Great talents? As far as I can tell, I'm the only one here with those." Her unclean torso peaked over the bag as she gazed down at her fellow thief's intricate fumbling.

Tugging briskly and firmly at his hat, trying to regain his vision, the man swayed in an impressively convoluted dance of pulls and fumbles. With one misplaced step, the entirety of his toned muscles went flying towards the coin bag. The impact sent a tremble through it that made the pirate sitting atop tumble to the ground - forming a clean, earthy impression next to Wario's own. They both heard groans and growls from every direction, dizzied by the encounter.

The overall-clad thief forced a hearty laugh. "That's nothing! I've got a... tool shed!... A toned body!..." His great arms flexed, trying again to free his eyes from the blinding cotton barrier. "...WAY more brains than you! A... wingman?" He searched through the files and cabinets of his intricately-ordered mind. Every asset he had could come into play. After all, he was competing with Syrup - a tenacious, confident woman who knew exactly how to get under his smooth, supple skin.

"Owww... Is that all?" His rival rubbed her head, still taunting while searching it for wounds.

Wario dived deeper into his grey matter's well-developed pathways of folds and wrinkles. Such a pathetic pirate, swooping in and snatching up this precious moment in her grubby hands! She didn't deserve this coin bag! She wouldn't know how to treat it gently, with the care that _he_ would! Picturing this woman having her way with those beautiful lumps of cash made his head turn into a boiler.

"No way! I've got... uh..."

Something burned deeply at his throat, turning his whole face red. Words choked up in it like water in a garlic-blocked pipe. He reached out, fingers twitching, prepared to strangle the first thing he grasped and never let go. Above all else in the universe, he wanted to completely ruin this buccaneer; laugh as everything she stood for crumbled into ruins; tear apart the fabric of her being into thin pieces; trace a caricature of a cartoon drawn by a child onto each piece; glue the fragments back together in a paper airplane; which he'd fly into the depths of Mt. Lavalava; then smash the volcano to rubble with a rusty sledgehammer; and salvage the ashes to spit on, and bury in the depths of what were once Wario's Woods; marking the pirate's tomb only with his justly-earned piles of cash, to recall her absolute failure as a vertebrate; guarding it with a platoon of twelve puzzle-obsessed minibosses, and a gate that would only open on full moons for him to ritually dance among his earnings in a display of fumi-e.

These tumultuous feelings could only add up to one conclusion: Wario had found love.

The familiar sound of rustling bushes lifted its face again. Even with temporarily-impaired vision, he could pick up the police's arrival with his elegant pointed ears. Like a Pavlovian canine, the swindler sporting yellow scurried off, remembering his final asset: "Oh yeah... And I've got a house arrest!" He left behind the bag of loot, a confused (and still-aching) Syrup, and a few more holes in the trees.

"What the... House? Arrest?" She saw the red-and-blue lights in the distance through quickly-shrinking pupils. With a dash away, the swashbuckler looked back to the target. "I'll be back for you, treasure!"

The patrol unit passed by the bag and fleeing thieves without a second look. The captain stepped right by the clean-cut path, the rest following him in a single-file. "Keep looking! The kidnapped Toads are here somewhere!"

_Author's Notes:_

_Here's a bit of Wario Land in the mix. If you're unfamiliar with the series, just know that Captain Syrup's stolen loads of Wario's treasure. But only because he stole loads of her treasure. Which happened because it was his treasure to begin with. And it probably belonged to an old king, ancient tribe, or alternate dimension before that. Think the relationship Indiana Jones and René Belloq. Except they're both René Belloq.  
_


	4. Waluigi Gets Funky

*****One Microgame-filled escape sequence later*****

"Congratulations!" Waluigi's elegant fingers had vim seldom seen in hands, outside of pickpocketing attempts and jazz performances.

He sent colourful confetti flying. It fell flatly on his partner's furrowed brow and nasal hair - taking flight again following a booming sneeze. "What? I just told you - Syrup's after my moneybag! Why are you so happy?" Wario gently shook the last of the paper bits off his cap. "If you're gonna double-cross me, try to make it sneaky, at least!"

The L-marked glove fell across his tense, masculine shoulder with a flat *thump* noise. "You've got a romantic rival! Those are very important. They let you know that you've picked someone desira- desireabubbl... desi... someone who other guys like. Weheheh! And competition gives you a chance to show off your _-romantic features-_!" He didn't speak the final pair of words, so much as operatically sing them.

"**Whatever!**" This response was not spoken, either - so much as catapulted from his uvula, coughed up in a single boiling-oil-coated syllable. "This is more trouble than it's worth! I'll just cut my losses. Get the cash somewhere else. The Rogueport Casino's lookin' good these days. The Tuesday guards are sleepin' on the job."

His soft, baby-blue eyes looked up in deep thought. But something felt wrong about it. An emptiness ate away at Wario's gut. Odd, since he'd recently filled it with garlic. What was off about this?... Was he being too hasty? Was there really something special about the coin bag, that'd make him regret his quick brushing-off?

...No, this was something physically missing: he didn't see his sidekick's face looming above. Waluigi had waltzed to the better-lit end of the garage, where a mannequin stood. Well, something resembling a mannequin, built from two tables stacked atop each other. Across the top lay loose scraps of yellow tablecloth, and an orange lampshade. Together, they could look like a dress and hair. If one squinted. And took their glasses off. And a sudden attack from a vengeful sun sweeping down to Earth was blinding them.

"Now, man, if you're gonna win that lovely sack over, half of it is in body language. And half of that half is the way you walk over to her, which makes... weh, 100%." His pencil-thin hips wobbled, legs kicking out and shaking like a stork with pipe-cleaner stilts. Swinging for a moment, his arm gravitated to the model lover, before clinging to it like a fridge magnet. His whole body followed that motion, as if the frills on the cloth were his center of gravity, before springing back into place.

The shorter rogue stood up from his stool, which clung to his wide, toned buttocks for a second before falling. He kept his fists clenched. "Are you even listening to me, you idiot? I'm through with this scheme!"

"I'm reading between your lines." He twirled himself gracefully over to the other arm, presenting a rose under his figure's nonexistent nostrils.

Wario checked over himself. His meaty claws pulled at the suspenders creaking from the sheer pressure of cloaking his well-exercised abdominal muscles. This became harder as said organs started to quiver, gazing upon the spectacle before him. "Lines? Gwah! What lines? Where are my lines?"

"Glad you asked: '_you have beautiful eyes_'." Waluigi's own perfectly-painted eyelids narrowed, right cheek raising in a smirk.

The sickly green growing in his partner's face nicely complemented his honey-coloured hat. It also fit the pale indigo across his forehead from lack of air. "WHAT?"

The taller man held the mannequin close, the upper table tilting from the sudden swing. "Or in your case, your line is '_you have beautiful gold coins_'. Remember, every potential lover is a different person, and you gotta treat them special. And then you dazzle them with - this!" He grabbed the figure's arm in his own warm embrace, now dancing with it in a circle across the room. Amazingly, his purple shoes skillfully twisted around all four of his partner's legs - almost as thin and stiff as his own. This was a skill he'd have to have practiced. Practiced many times. "Think about your love's most alluring features! Like this table's thick, elegant wood surface..." He ran his hand down one leg, pianist-like fingers sliding delicately across the wormholes; it stopped to calmly pat the place where Wario had punched it.

"Stop that! I'm not in love!" Wario dashed forward, a steady shoulder spread out, aiming to slam the tables away. His hefty steps, though, were no match for Waluigi's elegant pirouettes. His sidekick flew over him, dangling table legs whacking Wario firmly on his exposed rear. The pain made him stumble into a wall, face-first. An indent in the shed's steel perfectly preserved the thief's elegant nose, jagged mustache, and firmly-clenched jaws.

The mauve charmer _tsk_ed, waving his index to his partner's broad, ample back. "Slow down there, pal. Nobody likes a guy who jumps in all at once. Use your word skills."

"_MMMMPHMPH._" He pushed back against the metal encasing him, wobbling his sturdy, stubby feet back and forth. In the darkness, he thought he saw something calling to him, glowing gold...

"Repeat after me: 'I love you'." He spun the table around in another dance move, admiring the spiraling yellow drapes - and the way its toppings flew off.

He thrust his neck back and forth helplessly. "_MPH FFGNGN GRRRMGGMRGM._" Yes, something gold. Beautiful. He felt the coins flowing over him, pouring from the bag in a golden shower that filled his body with strength and warmth...

Waluigi rested his free hand on his chin - the other stretched around the higher table, spinning on a single pillar. "No, no, that's not it. Try it again, but moving your jaw and tongue. That's usually how I make sounds."

The money flashed in and out of his vision, floating away. A half-visible pair of arms scooped them up...

"GRRAAAAAAAA_AAAAGH_!" The animalistic growl was strong enough to pierce the shed wall. His firm, strong muscles tore away a whole chunk of hard material in one single pull. He overestimated the strength of the barrier, or underestimated the might stored in his manly arms; and as such, he collapsed backward, landing with a harsh THUD onto the cold floor. It was brutal enough of an impact, such was the amazing girth of his form, that both twirling tables collapsed over his perfect body - eliciting further groans of agony.

With a cringe, Waluigi started removing the wood and tablecloth that had collapsed over his body. "Oof. See, that just shows you another lesson: give them enough space. Can't have 'em falling all over you all at once."

Getting to his legs, Wario threw his arms up - tossing the furniture like a light salad. "Forget you! Forget this! Urgh, just being in this room makes me feel like I'll slip over your sleaze trail! I'm gonna grab those delicious, shiny coins on my own - and I'm gonna build a new castle, all for me and my bag of cash to stay alone! No more stupid dance moves or flirting or - whatever this crud is!" He stomped towards the door, arms held to his sides like a soldier on a mission.

Waluigi answered his glorious march with rousing applause, and a few handkerchief blows. The shorter swindler turned his head, bracing his burly biceps for another assault. But no, this wasn't an attack. His purple dance instructor sobbed, his angular cheekbones lifting in a sad-but-proud smile. "Yes! That's so... beautiful. Cutting past the glitz and big parties, spending all that romantic alone time, being so honest about yourself... You'll be a great husband. Here, bring these to her."

He handed Wario a bouquet of roses. They fluttered against his thick, neat mustache, tickling the nose hairs. With a sneeze, and a wave of his flowery fist, the yellow-clad suitor snarled, continuing to the door. "You stay outta this! I'll get that booty in my arms my own way! I don't need help from you and your-your..." He pointed accusingly at the eight-legged shape that his sidekick was hastily re-assembling and re-dressing, trying to find the appropriate term for the wooden monstrosity. "...Your table-girlfriend!"

A gasp filled the room. Waluigi's left arm hung limp like a noodle, while his right hand gently covered his mouth. "She's-she's not my table-girlfriend! I'm seeing tons of people!" He furiously patted the cloth back in place. "In fact, she isn't even a good dancer! She's got four left feet!"

Mid-exit, Wario paused. He glared back from the shed doorway. His piercing, eggshell eyes, partly hidden by strong eyelids, reflected the thousand-yard stare of a man who thought he'd lost all faith in the world and his life years ago; yet still managed to lose an extra bit of hope he didn't know he had.

"Have a rotten day."

***SLAM***

Waluigi wobbled in place for a moment, shocked. He mumbled to himself: "Lots of people love me... Haha, yeah, everyone loves Waluigi!..."

The cloaked table didn't answer.

"And really, I'm helping that big oaf. He learned to use his words! Like, did you hear how good he was at describing those delicious coins? Those glimmering, glistening coins..." His mouth began watering, breaking into a grin.

His dance partner didn't respond - leaving him to notice the silence on his own. His arms snapped up in a defensive posture.

"Erm, look." He held a wiry hand out to the piece of furniture in apology. "I said some things. Yes. I uhm, sometimes say things that I mean, er, I mean - sometimes I get these stupid thoughts in my head, like... Mmm..." He grinned, gears in his head twisting around the gold currency. Those flowing dollars, through his slender fingers; the people he could get back with them; the new golf clubs and tennis rackets he deserved; the new golf club and tennis court in his name; the sound of the coinage's bell-like clinks as he rubbed them together. Quickly, he caught himself - sweating bullet bills. "You still like me, right?"

The wooden structure stared him down without a word.

"Y-yeah... Me too..." His head shook, eyes pointed to the dirt staining the floor. "...I love me, too..."

_Author's Notes:_

_Nearing the end of the stuff I've already written for the story. I'll try my best to keep the update speed and style consistent._


	5. Dance with the Devil In Pale Moonlight

*****One motorcycle ride later*****

There existed, on ever-so-rare occasions - rarer than Zess T.'s tender steak - downsides to being so head-turningly hunky as Wario. Though people may gawk at him in awe and envy, problems could arise from being so strapping and stunning from round cranium to tipped toe, as his iron stomach lay to the ground. There were faults with having such a such a pronounced, graceful sway in his full hips as he crawled bravely through bushes. Some undesirable situations occurred to him from dressing in such bold, fashionable tones of royal purple and radiant gold - the costume's hues piercing through the forest's unperturbed greenery, like a warm knife through thick, creamy, moist, warm butter.

Chief among these few issues: people noticed Wario. Even when that was the last thing the plunderer wanted, sneaking clandestinely towards the much-beloved bag. The night was his silky veil, the cool wind brushing through his hair.

"Left, right... step, one-two... Bah!" Despite the swindler's best efforts to focus on his thievery tactics, Waluigi's lessons had left their mark in his mind, in his soul, and on his rear. He clutched the bouquet's stems in his pale glove, the way he might with the neck of an opponent. The frail, pencilly neck of an unworthy opponent.

Not everyone could undertake this daring quest for a forbidden meeting. It required absolute stillness; razor-sharp reflexes; refined spacial awareness; and eyesight adapted to low-light environs, attainable only through hours of Virtual Boy gameplay. Only someone as swift-footed and cautious as our rugged anti-hero could make it.

Something hidden in the black squeezed against Wario's cautious, swift nose. "WAAARGH! You idiot, I'm trying to be quiet! I'll pound your brains out!"

With his polite-but-firm reprimanding concluded, he recognized the silhouette against a crescent moon's glow: his coveted bag of loot. Firm and glorious, yet soft and welcoming. Round in all the right places, its seams ready to burst. A flowing string at the top, tying this immobile beauty together.

"You again! Stop that!" The thief's quiet whisper jostled Pidgits from nearby trees, sending them flying and squawking. His stern glare scanned the round form before them; a glare that lost its rugged, jaded potency as he lost himself in the shifting folds. Small chimes rang out from the other end, like the chirps of lovebirds, as he brushed his beautiful palms deep into the easily-receding surface. The cloth felt disquietingly soft - yet soothingly, it sifted through his meaty digits' intense hold. It was as if, rather than hard cash within the sack, there were fluffy clouds.

For a second, Wario allowed himself to float forward into the pleasing sensation. "Wahahah, I was always gonna come back for you. You know that, right?" He understood, in a small corner of his mind, that time was of the essence; that he should tense his muscles and sweep the sack off its lumpy feet. But being in this nighttime garden's tranquility - between stridulating young crickets and snoring piranha plants, and with the welcoming caress of the cash surrounding him - his great, beefy arms became gelatin.

For just a moment's fraction within that lingering second, his genius mind contemplated the situation. That plan. Initially, he'd come that night with a highly intricate strategy: squeeze a few coins out, not seize the bag in its entirety. He could tease out but a small handful of the flowing, dangling gold within, to return for more later. Perhaps he'd tear a hole in the soft brown cover, exposing its untouched secrets to the open air. Or he might be bold enough to untie the bounding string, and let the bag's perfect contents rest before him, liberated and welcoming.

However, in the presence of the bag's elegant radiance (along with its radiant elegance) the yellow gentleman entered a passionate, wild bout of self-control and nobility. If he started opening the bag up, other people might pluck out a few pieces of the loot that was his. Justly, deservedly, morally, ethically, and reasonably _his_. Not his property; his _destiny_. As well, in his hypothetical flight of fancy fleeing, some cash might chance to fall from his bulky fingers. Those poor pennies would be abandoned helplessly in the dark forest. No, Wario's heart was too large (and too pure) to merely have a sample of this bag's succulent offerings. For him to deserve this beauty's gold-kissed warmth in his chiseled arms, the man had to accept every perfect part of it, leave not one cent behind. He'd leave the object of his affections unopened, unspoiled, until it was in his castle. The strenuous, emotion-numbing efforts to bring the glorious bag with him - these were as important as the enlightening, uplifting serenity of his eventual victory and financial stability. He did not just want money. On a spiritual, physical, and economic level, this man needed this bag.

That single second lasted at once a lifetime, and far too short. A cacophonous rattle rang out to mark its end, like a sinister rattlesnake with the power of several well-groomed horses, and the ravenous, destructive hunger of a caterpillar preparing for metamorphosis. Indeed, it was more Caterpillar than rattlesnake: a massive construction crane crashed through the clearing. Its cruel treads thoughtlessly uprooted the innocent flowers that Wario had not already thoughtfully uprooted. A single cold, mechanical hook swung through the air, splitting tree trunks horizontally - the same trunks that the bandit's warm, peaceful gloves had split vertically. It stood there in the clearing, an absolute affront to the region's natural beauty - with the garish, sickly yellow and jagged, twisted, coal-black lines of its frame. The W-hatted daredevil stood up to the monstrosity - with the soft, tasteful, natural yellow of his shirt, and his clean, evenly-cut, midnight-black mustache. "Come on! Who the heck are you?- No, don't answer that, you- _YOU_!"

From the mobile crane's protective glass, a spiteful figure in red waved to him, her bare arm slouching in an ergonomically incorrect posture on the controls. "Ahoy, handsome."

"_SYRUP._" Wario did not so much address the buccaneer, as he did scream her name to the uncaring stars - while remembering to remain silent and stealthy as a black cat. "How come you get the fancy gear? Was it your goons? Your Gooms?" He held his tense hand out to the device, its mechanical hum shaking his stay feet.

Captain Syrup answered his earnest, Socratic questioning with a long roll of her eyes. "I disguised myself as a builder." With those puny pupils wandering to the side, she reminisced: "It's all thanks to Foreman Spice. Or Foreman Spork? Whatever his name was. Great guy. He let me drive one of his cranes right off DK Island." Her purple eyelids lowered in mockery. "Sorta looked like you."

This was a direct assault on his existence. The pirate had swindled his genius idea right from under his bulbous nose; and now, she was going to swipe his love from under his hefty blue eyelids! From the dark skies above, the thick rope descended, and the sharp edge at the end groped the sides of the bag's folds, the contents inside squirming at its molestation. It had all the care and delicacy of a crazed child picking up an action figure to slam into another, similar action figure.

Within his mind's eye, Wario heard voiceless screams, and smelled scentless mushroom stew. "Hey! Let go! Leggo!" He attempted to activate ocular energy beams, staring daggers and lances at that smug figure in the bulky vehicle. What an impersonal pirate - he was throwing his heart on his sleeves, and his spine out of his back, while she wouldn't even TOUCH the milky-brown sack! How dare she sit there, in any place with a roof and comfortable cushioning? In a brave attempt to rescue the distressed coins, he launched a barrage of punches at the crane; shoulder-checked its harsh frame twice; flung a flurry of kicks with his green heels, bearing the speed of Dr. Crygor on an exercise bike; slammed his intelligent, developed brain into the treads; gnawed at the sides like a quiet, innocent rodent; and pressed his broad, well-cushioned backside into it.

Nothing. The gears kept spinning with sickening clicks, and the bag began ascending.

"Think!" Once more, the cunning thief pounded his cranium into the vehicle, trying to activate the incredible power hidden within. "I've gotta stop this crane! There's MONEY at stake here!" No matter how hard he hit, all it did was remind him of the lingering marks from Waluigi's lesson. "Save the coin bag... Use words... Save the coin bag... One-two... Save the coin bag... beautiful gold coins..."

With the sack's wide base slowly lifting from the earth, it jostled the grass that surrounded it. Droplets of soil descended from it, as it dangled in the air. Entranced by its movement, like a cloaked pendulum, the thief approached it, reaching an arm out to it, and suggested with utmost confidence:

"Erm... May I have this dance?"

At the controls, the captain bit her lip. "What the..." She shook her head, adjusting her mauve bandana into her curls, and mumbling to herself. "It's just a confusion tactic. Ignore it, Maple. Keep pulling." She pulled on the stick, sending a signal to the electrical arm - move away from this jaundice-clothed pilferer.

In response to her command, the bag swung.

And like they'd had years of practice, Wario's agile, muscular, but still-compact legs bounced him out of danger, in a perfectly-poised twirl. He stared at the bulky limbs in confusion, as if his shoes had been inhabited by vengeful specters; but no, this heroic man had unleashed a primal, mysterious power he had only felt seldom before, during final boss microgames and crossovers with Konami franchises.

A power named "Rhythm".

With the laws of physics still binding it, the bag swung in return to his bulky torso. However, emboldened by his dodge, he intercepted the sack by its nonexistent shoulders. Humming a mambo-like beat, he held it in his great arms, moving back and forth. Intoxicated by his affection, yet lucid with energy, the capped miscreant tossed his partner into the air.

The coin bag swung, turning in wild, fascinating spins, the pale moon silhouetting them into a Gaussian blur. "This - this strength! This technique!" Taken aback by the sudden display of glamour, Captain Syrup tugged the controls in the opposite direction. "How about this!?" She swung the bag right towards its newfound dance partner, hoping to use the hard, gold contents as a blunt weapon - and dispel the handsome interloper.

Timing his moves with the precision and dexterity of a hard worker at a dance factory, the latter limboed. His back twisted down in a mass of glorious ripples, pointed ears nearly touching the shadowy grass. The bag's brown surface merely grazed the buttons on his clean overalls as it flew overhead and overgut. He exposed his clean teeth to the moon in a bright grin. The arc of his coins' swing was clear and even in the night sky, graceful as a swan. "Wah... Pretty..."

Maybe, just maybe, he'd learned something from Waluigi repeatedly hitting him with a table.

Her face snapped into bedazzled disbelief, the driver's eyes stretched to the proportions of dinner plates. "You..." Biting into her lip as if it were a juicy meal, she applied pressure to the crane's gas pedal. This drove the hulking vehicle at full speed towards her yellow-clad foe. Its treads ripped the soil, hurdling towards him. Captain Syrup's smile was as calm, peaceful, and composed as a Chain Chomp.

Wario stood steady, squatting like man in a combination rugby/football/soccer tournament, curling and unfurling his fingers (shaped like sausages made of only the finest pigs). The rumble shook his hat down to his nose. "Remember what that beanpole said..."

And he flipped, sidestepping the machine in his unbroken demolition dance.

The coin bag's swing grew uncontrollable. The crane's treads jostled over the deep, evenly-shaped pothole spawned by both thieves' earlier falls. Gravity continued to bind the forest's visitors even in that magical moment. The crane tipped to its side, the wheels spinning continuously. This crash tore the coin bag free from the cruel metallic hook; tore the mechanical arm free from the machine's gears and wires; and tore the pirate free from the control seat, tumbling out in a ball. Smoke floated up into the night sky from every orifice - and some smoke emerged from the crane, too.

She stood to her boots, dusting varied breeds of plants and insects off her pants and top. Between shallow breaths of oily air, she laughed. "Don't get cocky, sweety. You've thrown me off, sure. But how are YOU going to get the treasure now?"

With his final move, shaking invisible maracas, the rhythmic thief bowed. "Wahah, does that matter? Long as you DON'T get your hands on her!"

Syrup blinked at Wario, then at the bag. "Her?"

What kind of question was that? He stared at his feet again, shocked at their actions. What had risen up in his soul, there? He'd fought over money before. He'd fought in dance before. So why did this unlock so much - make his veins burn like fire flowers? That purple-hatted stick figure, Waluigi, seemed right about winning victory through his posture, words, and flowers. So perhaps he was right about more... Perhaps, the coin bag was right for him...

These two swindlers' semi-silent confrontation halted abruptly. The salty-sweet pirate pointed behind her more-than-worthy adversary. A figure approached them from the shadows, moving silently.

"The cops? Again?!" With the swiftness of a bird on a magic carpet, Captain Syrup disappeared to the trees, fleeing to safety.

Giving a final, longing look to his beloved coin bag, and gulping deep into his chiseled Adam's Apple, Wario placed the protective flower camouflage to his face again. Finally, he raced off with the haste and direction of a rhinoceros carrying a gorilla. They would meet again - and next time, he'd take _her_ home.

...

From aside, the shadow-clad figure didn't approach. It merely stared from the corner, looking over every feature gracing the coin bag. Slowly, it reached a long, gangly hand out, as if to touch it.

_Author's Notes:_

_I kinda made this a long, slow-moving, flowery Waluigi-ish chapter, for the first real showdown in the story. The next few chapters will probably be much more Warioesque; shorter, punchier, and racing the clock._


	6. Metamorphosis in Yellow

*****One World Map Later*****

Wario could still feel it in his magnificent hands. The gentle little shiver running up each of his sturdy muscles, tickling it, right up into his nose. He had the coins in his grasp. With every blink, he could feel each golden disc passing through his fingers. A loving caress that promised him the world, a purpose, every shiny trinket under the Star Spirits' dominion. And each time, he'd open his eyes, feel it fade away, and reacquaint himself with the sobering reality of Waluigi's stupid-looking face before him.

The slender man had his elegant chin carving a spot between his index and thumb. Both knife-sharp elbows dug into the indented table's surface. His baby-blue-hued eyes pointed to the night sky. "Hmmmmmmnn..."

"Yeah, this is a tougher than it oughta be." The man opposite slumped his own rugged jawline upon his knuckles. "We've got a moron pirate on one end, and the snoopin' cops on the other. Gotta squeeze between 'em and pull the loot out. And not another second in the slammer..."

The purple man's mustache twitched a little, while his neck slumped, pointing to the furniture's wood. "Nnn... yeah..."

A gloved index finger performed complex aerial maneuverings to illustrate its stout owner's nefarious scheming. "Hghm. If I come from the air, in a plane..." It launched up. "I can toss buckets on those loser coppers' heads, and they won't see anything. I'll get a big bucket for Syrup's swollen noggin..." Making its descent, the finger landed in the center of his palm's many delicate folds. "...I've just gotta grab those emergency buckets from the Diamond City sewers..." With a few twists and twirls, the digit ascended anew to his eye level, right under Waluigi's narrow nostrils. "Which I'll break into, by pretending I'm a plumber, and flushing myself down the toilet! Bwahaha!" Some spittle from his tongue escaped, while his hand drove down into the table separating the two. After a pause, he lifted the digit to his scalp, scratching. "Urgh, but where can I get a plumber disguise? There ain't any plumbers who look anything like me. What with this 'stache, and these overalls..." His pointed finger was soon lost in a firm, dainty fist of righteous anguish and sorrow.

Waluigi grinned. "Huuhm." His neck now tilted sideways.

"Gah! If I still had Goodstyle with me - I'd have it by now!" Wario's hand stretched out, tilting his cap as he ran the glove across his hair. "I just gotta make that bag mine! Doesn't matter if you call it 'love' or 'greed' or whatever, I need my coins! We can't live off grass and flowers!" He grabbed his partner by the overall straps, gifting him some healthy jostles. "Think harder! THINK HARDER!"

A string of drool fell from the taller troublemaker's perfect teeth. "Mmmmn... zzz... Hah..."

Like a transient treetop in autumn, Wario's face became red. "Hey! HEY! Lazy punk!"

Waluigi's eyes popped open in a sweat, with whites the size of saucers, and pupils the size of the period finishing this sentence. "Nyeh? W-wah?"

Like a child with a wrapped present; like a dancer with a maraca; like Jimmy T. preparing a protein smoothie; like a Hyper-Dimensional Cybot G with shake-based technology clinging onto an enemy; like a criminal genius at the end of his wits with an idiot sidekick; Wario shook the man vigorously.

"You're slacking off again! And in the middle of a plan!" Angered at the pause in their productive conversation, he gripped the slender man's chin in one hand, lifting him from the ground, as the other hand formed a fist. A fist far too familiar to the henchman, with his legs dangling like inflatable tube men. "If you pull off a sleep-stunt like that again, I'll remodel your face!"

Using his amazing skill of selective hearing, the thief in purple grinned suddenly, teeth curling up to his baggy eyes. "That's it! That's how you'll win your coins' heart!..." He paused to ward away a yawn. "Face remodeling!"

Wario's head twisted like a gyroscope. "I've gotta... punch your nose to impress a bag of coins?!"

"No! No... punching." Both lanky arms preemptively flailed out in a dodge, before brushing the ever-present wound on the table's wood, and falling over with fatigue. "You don't win hearts with muscle. You gotta show her the real you. You gotta.. zzz..."

Seeing the taller man falling asleep, the meaty man brought him down slowly, wordlessly. With a pat on the back, he gently rested his trusty partner's rear on a sharp thumbtack.

"WAAAH! Makeover!" Waluigi shrieked, suddenly alert. "I'll get you a stylist! They'll give you a makeover so spectacular, nobody will recognize you! But they'll recognize... weh... The real you... mmmmhhhm... Or, you'll be who you want the world to see... mhm. Zzz..." The foreign object remain lodged underneath his flat rear as his eyelids lowered.

Mid-punch, the implications of that sentence froze Wario's beefy arm. "Hm. Nobody will recognize me... Nobody'll spot me! I can sneak in anywhere without the coppers breathing on my neck! It's genius!" He laughed, holding his arms out. If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel every coin piling up in them already. When his eyes opened, reality slammed on his head again. "But we can't have someone else do it, or they'll know. We'd have to pay 'em off with a cut of the profits... And we don't have any cash to spend on makeup supplies!"

Waluigi's arms stretched out tiredly, stumbling into the shed's rusty hedge trimmer, and a leaky container of hand sanitizer. Both descended directly towards his welcoming, tired face. His rugged companion glanced them over with all his usual attention and scrutiny. "Those are perfect! Wahahaha! You can start making me beautiful now!"

The lanky ne'er-do-well could barely make out the handsome man before him. Shades of sweet yellow and elegant purple blended together, as he flopped gracefully upon a cushion, removing his hat. If this thief's mind was a complex, intricate maze of calculating turns and traps, then his hair was just as impossible to navigate. The mustache, below, was equally daunting - and was any artist capable of hiding that prominent red nose? Waluigi couldn't shake the feeling that he'd dodged a bullet by jumping into a minefield. "Can't I do it tomorrow?"

Wario's eyes twinkled with the beautiful glowing tears of a lovestruck man - or of a celebrity one bad night away from rehabilitation. "And let Syrup snatch my beautiful bag in her grubby hands? Gah! Just thinking about that makes my skin crawl!"

From his sidekick's top-down perspective - drooping, swirling, struggling to stay up - it looked as if the spotless skin was already crawling. And twisting, for that matter. Blurring, fading into darkness... He snorted back a snore, punching himself in the back to keep alert.

The floor-bound rogue politely requested: "Hurry up! HURRY UP!"

Waluigi's wobbly, twiggy arms took the hedge trimmer. It creaked as he opened the blades. He stumbled, half awake, half dreaming of better things, bringing the hefty cutters to Wario's out-of-focus face...

_Author's Notes:_

_That's the last chapter I had to edit from my older notes. From here on in, I'll be writing newer content, armed with only my plot outline, YouTube playlists, and RL friends to bounce ideas off of. The update speed _should_ stay consistent, and it _should_ still end up at around 10-11 chapters total; but if anything goes awry, consider this an explanation._


	7. The Twisted Tryst

*****One slasher film later*****

Forward.

"...Wah..."

Forward.

"...Wah...!..."

One limb before another, *it* crawled through the lazy forest. What had once been a scenic route of overturned greenery and clean-cut boulders now became a wet, slimy trail - like that of a slug. Slithering through it was a mass of pale, hairless flesh and muscle. Every joint on the creature's face had a miniature cut or scrape. A thick layer of hand sanitizer burned into each wound, as it cascaded like waterfalls though the ridges of its broad back, and sturdy, yellow-and-purple stomach.

Wario - or that which remained of Wario - crawled the path he had many times before. Now, he was perfectly disguised, thanks to his partner's efforts. Both Goombas and wandering Treasure Trackers all turned in the opposite direction; all walking away from this strange, broken being that was painfully forcing itself into the clearing. The well-built (though wet) adventurer laughed, despite each chuckle sending pain through his myriad facial muscles. They didn't suspect a thing! Nobody recognized him! Though, he hadn't actually seen himself, or even gotten a sendoff from his amateur makeover artist...

He wasn't sure when he passed out. At some point, while Waluigi was _(still)_ plucking the seventh hair from his left nostril, Wario grew fatigued. The sleep that he'd foregone on his nighttime visit came knocking back. The Sandman teleported him to Dream Land with a gentle, loving blow to his beautiful face. Sand. He hated sand so much.

_The swindler's complex mind created a thrilling dreamscape for him. That wonderful bag was floating before him, in the middle of space, with its jingling sounds and rattling touch. The two of them, at last, lay alone. This was their perfect little world, where they'd end up eventually - their Final Destination. And for miles, there were all sorts of tools, trophies, and foodstuffs that he'd earned, or purchased with the money. Yet still, the gold kept flowing from that bag._

_But from distant nebulae, a spaceship dropped an invader: an orange beast with a long tail, piercing gaze, and green scarf swept in. He scurried for a baseball bat, his paws out, ready to swipe the loot..._

_Wario shouted, as pain surged through him: "No items, Fox! No items, Fox! No items, fox!"_

_Fox McCloud halted, and snapped his fingers, as the fantasy realm dissipated around him. "Oh, maaan."_

_No Fox._

_Items only._

_Final Destination._

Later that night, he'd regained consciousness - to find his purple partner holding a full eyebrow in his spindly hand. "Weh," the amateur barber commented, "just gotta glue this back on... Which way's up...?" The shock, disbelief, and cold breeze above his eye, all knocked the shorter thief out; once more, away from cruel consciousness.

When the man woke up again, his castle was empty. His partner in crime had left him on the floor. Probably to undo the knots in his arms. Or fill an inflatable pool with cunning evil schemes and bob motionlessly in it. That lazy quitter! A specimen of self-reliance such as Wario didn't need his assistance anyway. He waited until there was feeling in his legs again, and inched slowly out the door, like a marvelous, proud, and very wet worm.

Finally, with a last push, Wario's face - shriveled in contemplation and anticipation - slammed into a hard object. Remembering the previous encounters, he wrapped his arms around it, hugging the round mass, cheeks lifting up to his eyes. "Wahah, here I am, beautiful! Miss me?" His fingers sunk deep into the brown surface, with a pleasant smell floating in his deep, unclogged nostrils...

When his pain-ridden eyelids finally reopened, the traveler realized: he was caressing a bush of bright, budding young Piranha Plants. Their clean, healthy teeth sunk into his already-reddened flesh. As he tugged his limbs away, in a coordinated and graceful flailing, they continued biting. "Bah!... Hah... Dumb flowers, think they can fool me! That's the last time I'm hugging anything, ever!... For free, at least."

A stirring in the trees interrupted his ultimatum. The much-loved coin bag was in a grassy plain just before him. It still drooped down magnificently under the weight of its expensive contents. A long, tall figure approached, slinking in one stretching foot at a time. Alarms blared through the yellow romantic's head, in twenty separate novelty ringtones. Fortunately, the shrubbery's thorns - along with the flowers left from his earlier visit - provided adequate cover. Unfortunately, that thorny cover stuck deep into his trousers' straps, refusing to let go. So he looked on, in terror, as the police officer entered the clearing, alone...

But something was wrong.

This police officer was taller than the average Toad.

And wore way more purple.

And his pointy, angular facial hair couldn't be compliant with law enforcement regulations on personal grooming. Laws which Wario learned very thoroughly the last time he was arrested for impersonating an officer of the law (along with impersonating a deadly weapon, and impersonating The 121st Power Star).

The ensnared bandit recalled all the pieces of the puzzle. His partner falling asleep. That height. The time that guy spent out of sight. Those quick, long runner legs. All the pieces pointed to a single conclusion, lain bare before him.

In the forest, in the clearing, in the flesh, Waluigi stood before the bag of loot, staring deep at it.

"Wh-whaaa..." Wario's jaw lay open, but nothing came out. A tear emerged. The burning pain was too intense for his poor heart. He had to take a minute and fight off the nibbling plants.

The taller of the overalled duo loomed in closer. His beady, blueish eyes, like microscopic swimming pools filled with excess chlorine, jumped left and right. He hid his lean face with a boney hand, before moving it in front of the other, in a silent prayer. "Weh..." He mumbled. "...Wario's gotta... Gotta really feel in love with you, bag. For his own good. So, eh, out of the goodness of my heart, I'm gonna pretend that I'm in love with you..." His feet shuffled in closer. "...And the little guy'll get really jealous. That'll make him realize he loves you. Yeah-hah-hah. Every good relationship is built on envy, possessiveness, and pushing your pals away. That's just common sense, y'know? You'd do the same for me. Erm, for him."

He scooted in even more, a long arm pulled to it like a magnet. The bag looked at him, motionless, allowing his hand to press on it. "So, because I'm such a great wingman, I'm gonna pretend I'm in love with you. I'm gonna fake being really bedazzled by your wonderful coins. For my pal, then the touch of your dark cover makes my fingertips tingle. Weheheh, I'm kinda tingling now..." He grinned, taking deep breaths of pure air through his mouth. "So uh, I don't mean anything by this, but you could make every dream come true for me, and I wanna do the same for you. Just for fakesies, then you're the only thing that's been on my mind for days. While we're just passing around, you're my destiny, my gold, glowing, hard, cold destiny..." He drooped to his knees, now desperately clutching the bag, and planting his nose in. "Oh! The damage we could do! The stuff I could buy! Weh, I love you! Waaah, I love you! Waaaah!" Again and again, he planted a mustachey kiss into the bag, fully throwing himself into the moment.

Finally freed from the bush, Wario tumbled out, head-first. "HEY!...Urgh..." He clenched his teeth, feeling the remaining sanitizer seep into what used to be his face. "...T-traitor!..."

"W-W-Wario!" Scurrying up, the purple pseudo-plumber flung his thin hands up in a defensive posture; but soon, allowed them to sink down to his hourglass hips, as he sneered. "Weeeell! Isn't this fun? You were right, big guy, I should get out and adventure more! You picked a real sweet sack of booty to grab onto!" He patted the bag, jostling its precious contents.

The man opposite him, having lost his yellow shirt to Piranha Plants' jaws, struggled to crawl up. "You can't treat 'er like that! I'm gonna scrub your... Ow... Remix your... Urrrf..."

"Yeah? Boo-hoo. How's that gonna help get with the bag?" With his teeth glowing blindly in the sunlight, Waluigi kneaded the sack like dough. "What were you even trying to do here? How are you gonna carry her home?"

His fist raising, trembling, fingers curled in agony, Wario sputtered with shaking vocal cords: "You used me... You used me, and tossed me out the window...!"

Taking a step forward, looming over his grass-bound housemate, the charmer in purple laughed. "Weheh, that's rich. Who gave you the excuse to crawl back to this coin bag? That was me. Who came up with the idea to dance with her? That was me, too. The flowers? Me. The makeover? All me. And who stole your blanket last night, when it was cold? Me! It was me, me, me, Waluigi!" He pinched his pokey 'stache, twisting the delicate hairs around. "Sure, I started this scheme out as an excuse for not gettin' out of the house. Then it became an excuse to push you around, to have ME in charge for once. But the more I thought about it, the more I knew: I'M the one who deserves that bag's love. YOU'RE the excuse here."

With deep breaths, his face going both red and pale, Wario crawled away from the sudden vocal barrage. "That doesn't even make sense! Shut up, shut up...!"

Like a necktie, his former friend twisted before him, cutting his escape off. "You're bad at comebacks. You're bad at talking to her. You can't stay out here and spend time with her. You don't have any plans for your future with her. You don't - " he chuckled, before continuing " - you don't even have a mustache!"

"What are you tryin' to...pull?" The floor-bound man reached for his lip, patting it incredulously. Following a thorough investigation, he scurried to a nearby river, filled with clear water; there, he politely shooed the bandana-wearing ducks swimming its surface by slamming his fists on the ground. When the ripples subsided, the criminal glared at his own reflection, teeth clenched tightly. Bare. His manly moustache had been removed, down to the last brave, jagged hair. Beneath his hat lay absolute void. "No, no... I just wanted... I just wanted to be pure..." He wiped his beady eyes again and again, hoping for the bold black to reappear. But nothing came. There was nothing left to protect his mouth, with its thin, tight lips. Nothing left to cover his shame.

He was alone.

Waluigi's reflection towered behind him, fish splashing through his thin chest. "I don't have any house arrest or anything, so don't worry. I'm gonna stay here with Coiny for the night. She'll get everything she needs." He whispered in his ear. "Way more than _you_ could give her, yellow."

His hairs would stand on end, if any were left across his shriveled body.

"So ein mist... So ein mist... Waluigi, you-!" With every nerve in his cranium flaring, the short, hopeless man swung out at the reflection - both that of his partner, and that of what he used to recognize as himself. His whole body limply dropped into the current with a heavy, percussive *plunk*. He lay still, bobbing, letting it carry him away. The water crashed over what were once impressive muscles; now, just clunky, clumsy bits of blubber that kept him afloat. The stream was slow and gentle, carrying him at a sluggish pace. Wario had a good look at his old friend stretching out, and resting back into the bag's comforting surface, while the stream gently washed off the hand sanitizer. And soon, he was nothing but a tiny, garish speck in the distance.

From a nearby bush, Captain Syrup adjusted her spyglass. "Hm. Is this really what we've come to, now?...Ow." She pulled another Piranha Plant's jaw from off her leg.

_Author's notes:_

_Sorry for the delay, hope the extra scenes make up for it._


	8. Rise From The Ashleys

*****One downbeat insert song later*****

When Wario returned to his castle, he found the gate unlocked, and the moat traversed. In other terms: the garage's door was open, and someone put a wood plank over the oil puddle in front of it.

Originally, he'd planned on slumping atop the dented table, and getting a good sleep; before changing his name and moving to Kongo Bongo Island. But an unexpected visitor disrupted those schemes. A woman in red and black, with twin ponytails outsizing her torso, was sitting on the table - and not letting him on.

She whispered: "Are you... Wario?"

He scratched his bare, unremarkable scalp, and collapsed into the stool, letting his frail back sink into it. "Used to be. You a cop? Just toss me in jail already. I wanna gross meal and a broken bed."

The visitor tilted her neck. "This was a mistake, Red."

Her demon familiar - currently taking the form of a crimson briefcase - piped back. "Come on, Ashley! This'll help us all. And you're finally inter-aaacting with people!"

Sliding an eyebrow up a nanometre, she nodded. "I'm Ashley. WarioWare sent me here, because I was elected Microgame Programmer's Union Representative." She pulled a paper from her giggling companion. "I'm here about our 1-Up Mushroom insurance plan."

Seemingly agonized at the sounds of her voice, the king of the castle titled his sagging face away. "Wah... WarioWare is bankrupt. My life as an adventurer is over. The Star Carnival is cancelled. The police found the Silver Zephyr dead in a Rogueport alley. Christmas was never real." When he blinked, he saw those coins - and shook his head, growling. "Just leave me alone! Get out of my room, loser!"

Still seated on the table, the witch bowed. "I have questions. But I don't want answers."

Her briefcase poked her rib. "_Pssst!_ Try starting a conversation! Bring his guard down, so you can sweet-talk him into a better deal!"

Ashley turned back, her joints twisting slowly to her target, like balls in a mannequin's sockets. "So. I hear you're in love with a bag of coins."

He pounded the ground. "Don't tease me! Wah, you don't know me! You don't know the pain I'm going through!" Each slam made his flesh redder and rawer.

With a slow pause, Ashley inquired again: "So you're in love with a bag of coins."

The romantic in yellow felt flooring seep through his full, plump fingers - like soft, wonderful, majestic coins... He clenched them into fists. "You don't understand me! You don't own my life! My generation's not making the same mistakes yours did!"

Ashley quickly gave up on calculating the age difference between them. After all, WarioWare's employee records alternately listed her as 9, 15, or 500, depending on the situation. She simply returned to the question: "You're in love with a bag of coins, then."

"It's not that simple! Waargh, it's so complicated!" He slammed his head on the wall, making an imprint of his smooth, creamy scalp. "Why are girls so confusing? Why is money so confusing? What's Waluigi getting from this?" Between tears, he grabbed his moistened face, hiding it. "Why do we even fall in love, when our friends are just gonna smash it to pieces? Gold, shiny, pieces of eight... all those coins, all gone..."

With a long breath, Ashley shifted her seating a millimeter to the back. "I'm still don't get it. You're in love with a bag of coins."

"Am I coming on too strong? Not strong enough? Am I treating objects like women?" He clutched at the table's wooden legs, shaking them like a prison cell's bars. "Why won't anyone give me a sign?"

With a wave of her hand, Ashley transformed her suitcase into a bright red "STOP" sign. "You're in love with a bag of coins."

Slowly, one muscular limb at a time, the de-mustached adventurer propped himself up, staring in the woman's motionless ruby eyes. "You can't tell me to just give up! It's not fair! Wah!"

The witch stared back - gently transmuting Red into a handkerchief, and wiping spittle from her face. "I'm asking this as the union rep. I'm asking this as a friend. I'm asking this as - I'm starting to think - the last sane person on this planet." She leaned in closer to his red nose, and said: "You're in love with a bag of coins. Right?"

He recalled the loving touch of its warm, legal tender.

The grave he plotted out Captain Syrup in.

The time he'd spent plotting to carry the loot away. The sweat he'd let out. The sacrifices he made.

The last victory dance Waluigi gave.

That garlic he'd scarfed down on the way home.

It all came up in one desperate, pained shout, a cry of agony to an sky of uncaring happy-face clouds: "**YES!"** He spread his arms, as if flying. "I'm in love with that bag of coins!"

"Okay, good." Ashley nodded. She snapped her demonic familiar back into a briefcase, and pulled a paper out of his innards. "We can talk about that 1-Up plan now."

Springing back, Wario's still-beautiful eyes dared to stretch wider. "You're... You're not weirded out?"

"Why would I be?" She patted her documents. "I've been talking to a briefcase today. I passed three hills that stared back at me on the way here." She pulled another page out. "9-Volt's been dating a hugging pillow of Samus."

Slowly, a shade of brightness arose in the man's drained cheeks. Just as quickly though, it shrunk down. "Yeah, but that bag's better off with Waluigi. He's got the real smooth moves there. I'm like a hairless worm here..."

The young witch tapped the briefcase shut. "Actually, you look more like a caterpillar. The kind that becomes a moth. Moths are cool." Pointing to the documents, she murmured: "The insurance, now?"

Slowly lifting from the floor, the swindler felt as if a pillar of heavenly light was engulfing him, levitating his battle-torn and thoroughly-trimmed mass in midair. "Yeah... Wah, you're right! I've just gotta meta-morph-asize!" He pushed his golden cap on, puffed his mighty chest out, and made way for the door. "Who needs a pillow of that hunter-chick when there's sweet moolah waiting out there?"

Ashley blinked. "Samus is a girl?"

"Urgh, and that bag's in trouble!" Wario pounded his fists together, ignoring the visitor's query. "It doesn't matter if I don't get with those coins! Baggy's gonna end up with Waluigi - he'll just use her! Or Syrup - she'll tear her to bits! I've gotta protect her!"

Ashley blinked again. "Captain Syrup is a girl?... The bag of coins is a girl?"

"Yeah, yeah, I accept all changes, I plead guilty, take whatever you want!" Green-booted feet thumping against the floor, Wario dashed out the garage, passion flowing through his door-disregarding shoulder. "I'm comin', Goldie! You're gonna be safe!"

Watching him exit into the horizon, the dark-haired girl jostled her companion. "'Take whatever we want...' That went well."

Red, poofing back in his demon form, nodded. "Y-Yes, Ashley! You made the Union's voices heard! Great job!"

She nodded, gently letting herself float off the table. "Good. I'm retiring now."

_Author's Notes:_

_Originally, this was an intervention with all of WarioWare. I decided it would add to the slightly-lonely atmosphere if we only had one character speaking to Wario. And it also makes the conversation easier to follow._

_After that, my first choice for representative was Mona, who found herself jealous of the attention Wario was giving the coin bag. But everything I wrote ended up sounding so sarcastic, the dialogue was naturally a better fit for Ashley; from there, the envy slowly became indifference._


	9. Duel of the Fates, Date of the Fools

*****One interrupted plane flight later*****

_"Weh-heheheheh..."_

Delicate, soothing snores of relaxation drifted through the fresh, still air of the rolling meadow, brushing the gently-crushed roses and slightly-beheaded daises.

_"Heheheh... I found you at the perfect time... I'm the winner... I'm the star..."_

In mid-blossom, the verdant branches provided perfectly-temperate shade to the slumbering miscreant, the full coin bag cushioning his unwound shoulders.

_"...I love you, too... I could sleep here forever... Wheehh..."_

Waluigi's tight, slightly-twiggish shoes flew out in relaxation, disarming blades of grass, as he spread his angular extremities further than humanely possible.

Such a peaceful, secluded forest, this was. Free from the garage's humdrum bustle and responsibilities. It could put the most active, spinning minds in a trance. It could make the most self-hating, hopeless person feel loved, connected with the universe.

It could make it hard to notice a man in yellow coming in - until he was already there, steady as a tower, his hands at invisible holsters on his generous hips.

Waluigi's eyelids fluttered up, barely lucid, before descending like a feather. With a second of delay, they snapped open. His pupils targeted the citrus-coloured intruder that dared to interrupt the third hour of his ten-minute nap.

"You again, Wario?" The beanstalky bootlegger swung up to his heels, lifting a half-shriveled rose from the surrounding fields. His voice bore more silent intrigue and fascination than outright outrage. "Didn't you leave crying a few hours ago?"

The stocky scoundrel stepped forward, his mere aura making leaves flutter away. "Yeah. Changed my mind." Every curl of his digits carried the force of Bob-Omb in mid-explosion.

"You've already lost Baggy." The taller tresspasser elegantly wrung kinks out of his spine and shoulders, arms spinning like active windmills. "I'm a better dancer, I talk prettier, and my mustache is WAY bigger." He pointed a finger out in accusation. "What are you trying to get here, greedy?"

Rubbing his nose, the stouter swindler continued ahead, his legs pounding like those of a sumo wrestler. "Pfft, you're actin' like you own her. This ain't about me or you grabbing those coins. That bag's gotta be free to decide what it wants!" His handsome neck leaned in, directly to the coins. "Doesn't matter if _I_ don't have 'em. But I don't wanna see _you_ treatin' her wrong!"

A blindingly bright grin crossed Waluigi's face. "Weheheh... Weheh, was I really that good at matchmaking you two?" He reached into his overalls, lanky fingers digging into the deepest pockets. "Waluigi made this relationship - Waluigi can end it!" He pulled out a golf club from his clothes, holding it in warning.

"Make a relationship?" Wario's mits dove under his cap, pulling it up. "You can't even make a Microgame." From below, he tugged out a tennis racket, holding it in front of his face, legs swaying.

A brush of wind.

A beat of the heart.

Two simultaneous leaps.

_CLANG_

The putter and the racket clashed like swords. On either end, the combatants' eyes blared like blue embers.

Wario and Waluigi's duel had begun.

The yellow thief was the first to move, dashing forward with his racket ahead. But like a rhinocerous, he remained on track even as his target dodged - leaving his back open.

His foe approached. Like a whirlwind in royal purple, Waluigi swung his weapon in wide circles. The iron became a dizzying blur. But with razor-sharp memory banks, Wario recognized that buzzing noise, and that leg movement; it was just like the dance he learned. He spotted a weak spot - and swung his racket's head at the perfect pressure point, guarding against it with sheer strength.

Waluigi continued spinning; now rotating back, he jumped into the mighty, beautiful trees that surrounded the bag's clearing. With perfectly-poised swings, he putted the crimson apples within its branches, sending the fresh fruits flying towards his massive cranium.

A veritable barrage of whirring, healthy blunt objects spun towards him. He shuddered, swallowing hard. But this time, again - the flying projectiles were timed with the same rhythm as that dance routine. One after another, Wario whacked them with his weapon, lobbing them at the tree-bound golfer.

He parried back, returning them with greater speed.

With a smash, the ground-bound rogue sent them into the trunk. The force was so strong that it cut into the trunk, shaking Waluigi out of the branches.

They both circled the coinbag, trading swings. Wario stepped heftily, uncertainly, and swung brutal blows. Waluigi pranced and rotated, jabbing rapidly. Their bodies and equipment remained synched, locked, ready - eyes burning into each other.

And soon, with a resounding _CLANG_, everything became dark.

"...Wargh! Who turned out the sun?"

"Werghk! Am I dead? Is this the Overthere?"

They soon realized - hard, metal buckets were covering their heads. Someone had dropped them from the sky, buzzing in a plane above. And as both partners peeled the buckets back, they saw that someone...

"You!" The man in yellow snarled.

"You!... Whoever you are!" The man in purple drew back.

Captain Syrup was flying in a plane above, tossing buckets at both thieves' heads. She waved to them, brushing her bandana back.

With an eloquent, clear voice, Wario enunciated: "What the - what did - how could - who gave you all those buckets?"

The pirate leader flew in closer, shouting down over the propellor blades' whir: "I got them from the New Donk City Sewers!" She performed a U-turn, flying overhead again. "I disguised myself as the mayor!" Somersaulting, she added: "Apparently, she's friends with some plumber! Marty-oh? Mary O.? He looks just like you."

With that explanation concluded, she lobbed a new set of buckets towards the two. They scurried around, trying to dodge the falling bits of grey from the blue clouds.

With agile leaps, and occasional swings, Wario managed to dodge. "You rotten buccaneer - you stole my idea! Just like you stole my last one!" He kept his eyes peeled on the plane. One of the falling objects was heading for his beloved brown coin sack. With a long dive, he hit the projectile away, protecting it. "No! You aren't gonna hurt her anymore!"

"Argh!" Waluigi stepped in a bucket, tripping to the soft ground. He bit into the dirt, trying to swim through it - as more buckets fell across his spine. He slowly wimpered. "W-Wario..."

He wasn't getting up.

Instantly, the thief in yellow charged forward, ready to rub his former partner's failure in his face. But Waluigi's tiny eyes were willing up with teaes, his fingers twisted. The sturdy thief, feeling his garlic-filled heart choke, grabbed his hand. "Urgh, no! What did she do to you...?"

His arms buckled. The sky-bound Syrup took time to dig for more buckets in her airplane.

The partner, flat on the ground, managed a quiet, sad smile. "I'm... Weh... I'm done... _*cough*_..." He gripped weakly, wrist wobbling in Wario's hold. "Waaario... You were right... You take care... Of the coins... Wehhh..."

Wario nodded calmly, remaining strong. "How... What do I do? I can't face her... I don't have your brains! I can't pull off your your moves!"

With one arm, the tall, handsome rogue in mauve raised his golf club. "I'm your wingman. And your wingman... gives you wings!"

A great swing, with all of his heart, hit Wario into the sky. He flew up at intense speeds, his booming "WAAAAAaaa" slowly becoming a distant whistle.

"There!" Captain Syrup prepared a new flurry of projectiles; only to find her opponent rocketing right towards her. "G-guh!" In a panic, she tossed bucket after bucket below, launching her whole inventory overboard. But they simply bounced off his tough, muscular form; there was no stopping his accent. Gritting his teeth, breathing more heavily than a freight train, his shaking hands held the racket, aimed...

And swung, right into the plane.

"H-handsooooome!" The vehicle, like an explosive tennis ball, crashed to the ground, breaking apart into more pieces than one of Waluigi's sliding puzzles. The pirate had fallen.

With a graceful whistle and a sound _*PLOP*_, Wario performed a perfect landing, face-first, right beside the coin bag - in the hole he'd formed earlier. Coughing, and pulling dirt out of his suspenders, he felt his blood rush. There were wounds from his partner's club, and from his descent. But all his injuries meant naught when he was basking in the glory of the coin bag.

He stared at it, at loss for words.

The bag loomed back at him, quiet.

Finally, Wario broke the silence. "Well, erm, there you go. You can... thank me later." He turned to leave back home. After all this, he was ready for a long break.

But before he stepped away, a pressure fell on his left shoulder.

The coin bag had falled on his broad form, gently caressing it.

The coin bag accepted him!

"Wahahah!" Joy floated through his heart, as his hands gripped deep into its surface. He felt warmth drift into his body. "I knew it! Oh, this is the greatest day is my life!"

But soon, another force tugged at the side. Captain Syrup, covered in soot, was pulling for the sack herself. "Step aside - I need this!"

In a clanking crawl, Waluigi grasped a third side of the sack, tugging with all his might. "I'm feeling better now! Gimme those!"

"No! You idiots, you're gonna-" Wario kept holding, his golden arms wrapped around it...

_RIP_

It tore open harshly and cleanly.

No coins fell out.

Instead, a set of three Toads wobbled out, rubbing their heads.

The "coin sack" only held them, and nothing else.

"W-Wha?" Wario couldn't move. His arms remained frozen from the betrayal.

Waluigi jumped back in shock. "C-coiny? What?"

Syrup grabbed a Toad by the collar, shaking him in desperation. "Who are you? Where's my money?"

The Toad choked, before chirping up: "We're Mushroom Kingdom Retainers! Bowser kidnapped us!"

A second Toad added: "He stuffed us in a fake coin bag, so nobody would find us!"

The last one rubbed his swollen, red-spotted cap. "We tried to call for help, but you just kept fighting..."

After that declaration, the three outlaws fell on their backsides, staring and shaking in disbelief. They'd been fighting, falling in love, and betraying each other... For a couple of mushroom guys?

The first Toad, shuffling his feet, resumed: "Well, thank you, Syrup..."

The second added: "Thank you, Waluigi..."

The last one continued: "Thank you, Wario..."

All of them announced at once:

"...But our princess is in another castle!"


	10. Interlude

*****Meanwhile, in another castle*****

Bowser's steel fortress sunk into magma and brimstone, the last of his walls crumbling into the hot abyss. With sweat pouring down his neck, Mario rushed leaped over the sinking blocks. Princess Peach jumped over another set of platforms, out of her prison - and into his arms. With one shared look in their eyes, they took a leap of faith from the steel glass window.

Both their bodied plummeted to the distant ground.

Certain doom faced them.

Their hands stayed connected, one embracing another.

And with a loud _*SWOOP*_, Luigi arrived in a wooden Airship, stolen from the Koopa King himself. He caught them, and set the landing gear. They walked out on soft, green ground.

A herd of winged Yoshis flew in the air, cheering.

Above them, fireworks filled the skies.

The long, strenuous adventure was over.

The Mario Bros. had saved the Mushroom Kingdom.

Peach hugged them both at once, breathing deep breaths of relief. "Thank you, both of you! You saved me faster than usual this time."

Luigi blushed, rubbing the back of his head; while Mario saluted, taking his cap off.

The princess put a finger to her lips. "You didn't happen to take a Warp Zone, did you?" Her hands clasped together. "If you skipped a world, the Mushroom Retainers that Bowser kidnapped are probably still trapped there..."

The plumber in green stammered, lifting a finger up to explain.

The older brother's hand covered the younger's mouth.

"Oh, what am I saying?" The monarch laughed her question off. "Of course you saved them all! You're real heroes!" She leaped into a winged Yoshi, on a return path to her own comfy castle. "I'm going to make a real hero cake for both of you!"

Mumbling awkwardly, Luigi gestured to the shorter hero.

Mario kept staring, smiling brightly, waiting until Princess Peach and the dinosaurs had flown out of sight.

Then, just as silently, he pulled Luigi with him to the Warp Zone.

_Author's Notes:_

_My original plan was to have this story completely free of the Mario Bros.; but I couldn't resist pulling off an "Another Castle" joke, and I couldn't pull off that joke without at least acknowledging Peach._

_So, speedrunners who skip worlds and leave captive Toads to die, don't worry: Wario's crew has you covered._


	11. The Last Dance

*****One credits minigame later*****

The nights that Captain Syrup entered Club Sugar were rare. But then again, the nights that a pile of treasure came alive were rare. That hadn't happened since she tried to steal the Black Diamond. All things considered, she needed the most sugary beverage available.

Bright lights illuminated her root beer, as manic dance movements shook the ice cubes within. In a dizzying cacophony, there was a kind of feverish harmony amid the patrons - visible only in brief strobes, audible only between a throbbing bass. A woman in orange was mumbling about multiple sets of deceased parents, curled up in a ball on a table. A large wig slid across the floor, before three giggling dancers scrambled to retrieved it. Onstage, the redheaded guitarist and greenheaded singer looked ready to hibernate for the summer.

Moving away from the bustle, the pirate passed Waluigi. He was staring intently at a dented table, seven bowls of ice cream surrounding him. Something was obviously moving through his sophisticated, multifaceted mind.

_"W-Waluigi-kun, you really mean it?" Table-chan blushed, fiddling with her drapes._

_"Of course, my love. I've made mistakes, and I've learned my lesson." The purple-hatted man hugged her legs. "I'll never leave you again."_

_The furniture's wood trembled at his warm, caring touch. "N-not for the coin bag? Not even for that h-half of a toaster...?"_

_Waluigi whispered into Table-chan's wormhole: "You're worth all the gold coins in the world, and at least three halves of a toaster."_

_With a quiet sigh, the table slowly pulled away her cover, pointing to the dent in her top. "But I'm ruined, Waluigi-kun... I'm damaged goods... I-I wouldn't even sell at a clearance sale..."_

_The mustached man slowly rubbed the mark. "It doesn't matter. You'll always be beautiful, firm, and woody, just the way you are." He hugged it. "This doesn't change a thing between us. Can you... forgive me?"_

_Slow dance music started. Table-chan erupted into tears, her four legs falling over her partner "Waluigi-kun... Yes, oh, yes! I want you, Waluigi! I want to hold your plates! I want to help you reach high places! I'll let you sleep on me, forever!"_

_Even amid the noise, it was like they were alone, at last._

The man knocked assorted dancers off the floor, spinning around in ecstasy, with a stiff table in his arms.

"Keep moving, keep moving..." Syrup continued until she reached the back of the club. Alone, Wario was staring at a sorbet, hunched over in his seat, watching it melt.

He didn't look up. "Whelp. You can't brag about that. Neither can I. We both bungled that caper."

The pirate leaned into the chair opposite him, staring at the melting ice cream - and putting her glass of soda beside it. "That wasn't just a caper, handsome. You were in love there." She rested her arm on the table. "Or something close to it."

"Mrghmghm." His eyebrows furrowed. With a spoon, he stirred the parts of the sorbet that were still solid. "Whaddya know 'bout love, anyhow?"

She looked to the dancers, in dizzying motion, weaving in and out of each other. "Not a lot." Turning back to the bowl, she spoke more to the untouched food than to her rival. "That's what's sad. You can't really know where love'll end up. You put everything you have in it; it still surprises you."

"You can change yourself for it." Behind the glass bowl, his spiky mustache was starting to grow back, and the colour was starting to come back in his cheeks. The wounds from his partner's barber work were healing swiftly. "And changing ain't always good."

Leaning her head temple-first into her palm, the captain sighed. "You just ignore all the flashing warning lights. You inflate it like a hot-air balloon. Then..." She imitated a popping noise, blowing her hands out.

Wario slumped back into his chair, resting his shoulder next to the beverage. "Yeeeah. So you here to lick your wounds, too? I dunno what to believe in anymore."

Syrup sat still, her eyes lazily rotating over to his rough, masculine physique. "That's what I'm here to say. This doesn't change a thing between us." She took a spoon from the table, and began dipping it into the mostly-liquified dessert. "I still hate you. I'm still going to get revenge on you. And it'll be like that forever."

In a single, fast swipe, Wario clutched the root beer, and took a long swig. "Wahah... Thanks."

No matter what got shaken up, no matter where he and Waluigi were flung, he could still trust one thing: she'd always be completely untrustworthy.

The doors to Club Sugar swung open. A set of police Toads stepped in. The leader spoke in a harsh, ringing voice: "We're looking for a Wario, Waluigi, and Syrup!"

"The fuzz!" On cue, Wario gulped, and rushed through the nearest wall, running for the hills.

Captain Syrup snapped. A Pirate Goom broke a hole in the club's ceiling, pulling her into an escape plane.

Waluigi looked both ways, and buried his way into an underground tunnel, carrying Table-chan on his back.

From a corner of the floor, performing a new and fashionable solo dance move called "Doing Absolutely Nothing", Ashley the witch turned to the new entrants. "I work with Wario. What's the deal?"

The police captain took out three large cheques. "We're officially rewarding all of them for the safe return of the Mushroom Retainers! Enough money to never go hungry again."

Ashley shrugged. "I'll let you know if I see them."

In the distance, Wario screamed to the others: "If you need me, I'm barricadin' myself in the tennis court until this brushes!"

Captain Syrup responded from the sky: "If you need me, I'm changing my name and moving to Crocodile Isle!"

Waluigi, plowing through the ground, chimed in: "If you need us, we're going to the hardware store!"

_Author's Notes:_  
_It's over. You can cry now._


End file.
